Monsters within
by sesamisen
Summary: What if he was never alone? A five years old redhead called Gaara, swinging on the playground and next to him someone he had never seen before. She lost a parent but keeps smiling. Can she be that strong ?
1. Prologue

In time I learned some things that can your life from bad to good and from good to excellent, like : always keep your promises and never give up a fight, no matter how impossible it may seem to win it.

As a child, my life was nothing different from any other child. All I did was play and care less about "adult stuff". I had lots of friends and free time to spend it with them. From sunrise to sunset I would go to the playground and meet some new kids. After that I would go home and find my grandma cooking dinner (or baking some cookies). My parents were usually gone in missions as they were ninjas. I missed them every single days, and before going to bed I'd look out the window and pray that they were coming just around the corner and smile at me, knowing that I was waiting.

My dream, from that age, was to become like them and help others, care for their lives and fight against the ones that wanted to kill them.

Until one day that changed everything..

One day I opened my eyes and I saw the world as it was. Dark and miserable. Full of pain. Empty. It was black and white, nothing more. But still, I hoped, that maybe …. Something will bring the color back into my life.

_An old lady was laying in her bed with a pillow on her face stifling her sobs. Watching her cry, without having any idea about the reason why, made her heart break. Not because she understood, seriously she was a four years old, but because she could feel the sadness other people felt. Reika thought that her grandmas suffering would make her days a real nightmare. She wouldn't be able to play out, or eat cookies, or have friends over. Every time her grams was furious , she would deny any childish action from Reika. That wasn't fair, and Reika was tired of it. _

_But her biggest problem was that she had done nothing ! There was nothing broken and the cat didn't pee on the floor again, the flowers were watered and her bed was made. So what was wrong this time? _

'_Maybe I stayed too much outside.' She tried to remember every single thing she had done that day , hoping that she would find the mistake and go apologize for nothing came to her mind. 'I really did nothing!'_

"_Grams?" She was prepared to ask when the pillow dropped to the floor and the old lady rose from her bed. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked much older._

_Seeing her like that, really got Reika thinking. 'It must be something pretty serious if she cried so much.'_

_Her grandma remained silent. She watched the little girl with pity and the hugged her. And started crying again. 'How is this fair?' she asked herself. 'She doesn't deserve this.'_

"_Grams?" this silence worried her. It was scary because she never experienced such a situation. She had never seen her grandma crying and hugging her for something she had done.. so it must have been something from the outside. Something that could have happened.. something that would destroy her life… something.. "Grams, when are mommy and daddy coming home?_

Losing one parent made me appreciate the one that I had left. All I can remember about my mother was that she used to buy me candies and kiss me of "goodnight". I'd been told that she died in battle. Should that have helped me ?

Does it really matter how you lose someone if no matter what, the person stays dead ? I didn't think so, and I still don't. All I understood was that I couldn't see her anymore, and neither could anyone else.

As days passed I started missing her and my dad started changing in an awful way..a way that had a great impact on my life, and my future ME.

My name is Masato Reika and this is my story.


	2. Introduction

**Hello! Okay, so this chapter is extremely short because I want to get fast into the story. This takes place when they are kids and met, after a few chapters (maybe 2-3) it will take place at 12-13 years old and then I will get to the real deal : when they are 16. Hope you will read (if it's anyone reading it anyway) till then . ^^**

**Listen to Gary Jules - Mad World**

**I do not own the places presented in this story, the characters etc ! :)**

**With love,**

**Sesamisen**

I was four years old when I met Gaara.

After being shout at , I left home with a bag of cookies made by grandma, and went to the playground where, I hoped, I would meet my so called friends and have some fun. Arriving there and staying for a while, I found out that I couldn't pretend like nothing was different. I was different, they were. But not because I changed, I still couldn't understand what was going on, but I felt a little bit envious that they had their mothers and I didn't.

I watched them play with a ball, watch them insult one another, make silly jokes and even punch each other in the stomach. They were acting so foolish and mean like they were able to do anything they wanted to. And no matter how bad they were, they had a family. All of them had their parents, even sisters or brothers and would go home to find peace and happiness, while I had nothing to go home to. It didn't seem right and I thought that I didn't deserve it. What bad had I done and they hadn't?

As minutes passed, disgust made its way to my heart and all I could feel watching them was envy. Looking back at the person I should have been and the person I was, the difference is kind of significant. I was a child with a dark heart. From a colorful one, it was getting darker and darker as seconds passed.

I felt like leaving them, so I did. I turned around and headed for the swing, because it usually was left unused. That time it was occupied. A boy, with red hair and a sad look was swinging. Firstly I had no idea who he was because I rarely saw him, but immediately I realized. Gaara, the son of the kazekage. The one that everyone feared and watched with disgust. Who were they, anyway, to judge ? And he was a child ! What could he have done to make everyone avoid him ?

I was prevented as well. My father told me not to befriend him and not to stay in his way. But what did my father know anyway ? The only thing HE did was drink all day and think he was a smart ass. So what could have given me much pleasure than do something that would most probably annoy my father ?

Yes, I did what you think I did.

Step by step I approached that 'innocent' boy while thinking of a way to introduce myself. I was pretty good at making friends. Till then.

"Hey there." Was everything I could say. My voice sounded a little stuffy, but he didn't seem to care. He just looked at me, his eyes wide opened in surprise. "Wanna be friends?" I smiled, hoping that maybe this way he would answer. But he remained silent as if he was afraid that he might say something wrong and shoo me away. "You can talk, you know? I won't leave." For a split of a second, I thought that I saw him smile. But he tried his best to keep his emotions to himself.

"Hi." was all he said.

"Oh, so you can talk."His face was blank and his eyes examined me from head to toes. "I like your hair" I lifted my hand and ruffled the messy red spikes and then grinned in a childish way, making him even more surprised. "I think it looks like mine, even though mine is prettier and longer, and curlier." Because, as him, I had red hair.

"Why are you talking to me?" he seemed more than confused as why would I lose (maybe?) my time with his presence. I felt quite sad. He was alone and the only thing I thought no one deserved was being alone.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm a monster. Everyone says so." He lowered his head, watching the ground and the dust at his feet. Hearing a five years old say that he's a monster is something that you don't get to live often. Such a word shouldn't even exist in a child's mind.

"Well, do you think you are?" I saw him stop moving and obviously thinking about the thing I said. I was very impatient because everything I wanted was play with someone that didn't make me feel envy.

"No." was all he said.

"Then you aren't, right?" I remember now that he smiled. And not any kind of smile, but the one you give someone that made you realize that your life is so much different than the one you thought you live.

He was buried in a lot of sorrow, made believe that he didn't deserve anything and that he belonged with the dead ones. I learned later that he was chased and people tried to kill him countless times. Was that fair ?

As I spend time with him that day, I found out that I couldn't make him talk about himself. He was introvert and had no wish to change that. And he wouldn't even play with me, he was only watching me do all the funny stuff, like he enjoyed life from others eyes. He was feeling everything I did because he was trying hard to see life through my eyes. Or what he thought that were my eyes.

Looking him in the eyes felt like traveling in another world, full of darkness. I saw fire, dust, dryness. But through all the haze, a drop of light tried to make its way out of it. There was something.

It was hope. Hope that maybe one day something would change and it all would fade away, lost in the past, forgotten.

After spending more days with Gaara, I realized that he was strong for a kid. He might have seemed weak, because of his hope for something better, but in my eyes, that hope kept him alive and whole. No matter how bad people insulted and attacked him, he never thought of giving up.

I admired him. I was suffering as well. Losing my mother and living with an alcoholic father, was hard for a child, but Gaara's life was so much worse. He lost his mom at birth, his entire family seemed to hate him, people were afraid of his presence and… besides all this, he was alone. Or, so I believed. Latter I heard that he had his uncle. And becoming his friend, he started opening up to me.

One day I met him on a hill outside the village. He was waiting for a few minutes when I arrived. Standing on his back, watching the sky, his hands full of sand, he seemed at peace as if he was where he belonged to. I knew sand was his specialty. He would move one finger and the sand would follow his every move. That amazed me, because I knew no one with that power. And I also had no power at all (or so I thought).

Taking my place by his side, I let myself fall to the ground on the warm sand, feeling it slide between my arms, legs and body. I could try to describe you the way it felt, but I might give you a wrong impression of its beauty. I can only say it felt right.

Having this child next to me, that was as plain as he could be, but still.. having that something that made you strong. Because he did make me strong. He gave me hope, he gave me the feeling of safety that no one would bother to give.

That 5 years old boy, was a monster. Not because he was bad, or mad, or insane, or killing people. But because he had something different, that wasn't normal. A power beyond my description.

"Reika.." I heard his voice in that silence. "How do you see me?" he seemed serious, like he had thought about that question for a long time. It was hard to answer. I saw him as a child, as a friend, as someone strong that could save lots of people or kill them. But would he believe me if I dared say it ?

"As a carrot" I replied, laughing at my own statement. He looked confused and disappointed by my reply. Maybe he thought I was mocking him. I guess I will never know since he never gave words to his thoughts.

"Carrot?"

"Yes, your hair."I said pointing out at his red hair. "You get it?" after a moment I realized how stupid I might have seemed in his eyes after that. But I didn't care. And neither did he.

I wanted to let him know how strong he really was. Like a wall, unbreakable. People were mean to him, hurting him every time they had a chance. And he kept on hoping. He linked himself to that man, his uncle. No one could break that link no matter how harsh they were.

Or so I thought.

Spending time with him meant fun. Not every kind of fun, but an exciting one. We did different things every day. And sometimes we would talk about things. I cared about him. I would fall asleep at night thinking about the things we did during the day.

My grandma would ask when I got home how was my day, but I never dared tell her about Gaara. She would be mad, so mad, because she always told me to keep distance. And my father ? Well, he never asked. He was alone, searching for hope in a bottle of wine.

As I got home that evening, my grams grabbed my hand and shook me with an angry look on her face.

"Why are you spending time with that monster?"she asked, obviously not really caring about my answer. "Do you not care about your life? Do you want to make me cry to death when losing you? Wasn't it enough that I had lost my own daughter, I have to lose you too?" Her cheeks were now soaked in tears, her face extremely red. She started sobbing, leaving my arm, wiping away her tears, then slapped me hard on my cheek. I felt it burning and it hurt so hard that I couldn't not cry. I think that she regretted hitting me.

One thing I hated most and could not stand was being hit and I always told her how much I hated mothers that slapped their daughters.

She must have remembered that, because she fell to her knees and hugged me immediately, repeating over and over again how sorry she was, that she should have been with me all the time so that 'monster' couldn't get near me.

I couldn't stand that. I couldn't listen to her ugly voice, speaking so loud, sobbing, and telling me how a 'monster' my only friend was. So I left. I shoved her away, I spit a "I hate you." And then left running. I remember slamming the door in her face and running. I didn't know where. I just wanted to get away. I felt Gaara's pain then, like I was him and she told me that I was a monster. My heart felt broken in thousands of pieces and I couldn't get my mind off it.

I had to find him. I wanted so bad to hug my friend and tell him everything he wanted to know from me . '_How do you see me?'_. After standing with me for so many days, helping me forget about the pain that was eating me inside, I could at least help him in those moments.

So I ran, fast.. I looked for him on the playground, around the village. But he was nowhere to be found.

I couldn't ask people about him. They would have told grams, and would have told mean things about him, so I preferred to go and wait him in the swing, hoping that he would come .

He didn't.

I waited till evening, and he wasn't there. The moon was shining in the sky, and I knew I had to go home, if not, I would have been in great trouble. With my head lowered, I went home. I wanted to cry so much, but I didn't want to show my sadness.

Walking home I remembered how upset my grandma was and what was waiting me at home. I could already hear her scream at me, and even slap me, again. But I had to endure it, there was no other place for me to go.

I could already see the roof of our house. It was a small place, really. There were two rooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. When they bought it, my parents were almost never at home, because they were in missions, and my grandma was the only one taking care of it. After I was given birth, my mother stayed with me until I reached 2 years and a half, after that I wouldn't see her much. And that's a thing that I regret. I couldn't even remember her face. And there weren't many pictures of her either.

That house was a place of sadness for me. My mother was everywhere : in the pictures on the walls, in my grandma's cry and in my father's thoughts. Everywhere I looked was her ghost, haunting us, torturing us.

And now, as a plus for all those, the things that were about to happen to me because of my friendship with Gaara.

I was approaching the place I hated most at the moment. 'How can she call him like that?He's so much more.'

I was ready to get shout at, maybe even beaten, but there was no one at home. It was quite. No one was crying.

Kind of strange. There was always, and I said ALWAYS, someone home.

And I was right. Gaara was there.


End file.
